


Mistletoe

by SassySherlockReturns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crossover, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts AU, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mistletoe, Potter!Lock, Potterlock, Sherlock/Harry Potter, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream, sherlock crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySherlockReturns/pseuds/SassySherlockReturns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistletoe was forming above them, hanging over their heads and making itself known. They both noticed it and were both itching to lunge forward and lock lips with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

Christmas at Hogwarts was a lovely thing. It was warm and welcoming and reminded you that you're wanted there, even if you're not wanted at home, for whatever reason. The paintings wore Christmas hats and sweaters, fire light lit the school and everything was... Warm. So very warm. 

This year there were only about twenty students staying at school for the holidays, and two of which were Sherlock Holmes and John Watson; the inseparable duo. The whole school knew the two, for good reasons, but also for bad. The pair liked to get involved, to try and help, though sometimes they caused more trouble. The murder of fourth year Carl Powers had been their main interest last year, but none of the teachers seems to listen, though Sherlock and John knew better than to let it pass as an 'accident'. But that was in the past and, though it was still clear in Sherlock's mind, the holidays were no time to think about things as morbid as murder (at least, not for John). Instead, Sherlock and John planned to spend the whole two weeks lying around, going to Hogsmede and just enjoying the pleasure of doing nothing at all. 

 

The room was quiet and the air was warm in the Great Hall, fireplaces warming the large room, students shuffling about in slippers and jumpers, sipping on eggnog and munching on pumpkin pasties. "Want one?" John asked, rolling his eyes when Sherlock shook his head and shoving a Christmas cookie into his mouth anyway, giggling at the sight of Sherlock, crumbs all over his mouth, reluctantly munching on the cookie. 

"You haven't eaten in ages, Sherlock. You're a growing boy!" 

"I'm fifteen John, hardly a boy." Sherlock muttered with a huff, which John grinned at.

"What do you want me to call you, then? A maaaaaan?" Shoving Sherlock in the side, John giggled once again, the light, boyish laugh echoing through the hall, unable to bother anyone, as they were the only two there. John's laugh never bothered Sherlock anyway. Instead, it caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach and Sherlock found himself blushing a soft pink. 

"Oh, shut up, you idiot!" But his voice was light-hearted, it was happy because honestly, Sherlock doubted he could be annoyed right now. He was too happy, the school was too bright and Christmas spirit was, unfortunately, taking a toll on him. John laughed at his comment and soon it became infectious, the giggles filling the air, followed by Sherlock's own as they laughed to themselves, grinning like madmen and sipping on eggnog.

~ 

The rules and curfews of the usual school year had been dropped in sight of the holiday. Sherlock had moved himself to John's cozy Hufflepuff dorm, as he was the only Hufflepuff boy in their year staying for Christmas, so Sherlock had plenty of space to spread his things, though he decided to actually sleep in the bed next to John. Obviously. 

They stayed up until the late hours of the night, talking about everything and nothing in-particular. They'd talk until John fell asleep, and then Sherlock would look over and smile softly, reading for another hour or two before drifting off himself. Sherlock much preferred to sleep there, loving very second of it before he was banished off to his own dorm when the holidays came to a close. Because John was the only person Sherlock could tolerate for long periods of time, he was the only person he knew that wasn't a complete idiot. Everyone in Sherlock's dorm hated him, and none of them matched his intelligence. He'd prefer John any day. 

"Truth or dare?" John asked, when they were both lying on top of John's bed, pyjama clad, staring at each other with hooded eyelids and soft smiles. 

"Honestly, John? Truth of Dare?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile. 

"Mhmm." 

"Fine. Truth." If they were going to play this Sherlock wasn't going to bother getting up for a idiotic dare, or possibly leaving the warm room. 

"Have you ever kissed a girl?" Girls? Not Sherlock's area at all. 

"No, I haven't, and I don't ever want to." 

"C'mon, you'll change your mind soon enough." 

"I don't want to kiss a stupid girl! I don't even like girls!" 

Pause, then a cleared throat and a shuffle from John. 

"Oh..."

"Oh?" 

"Are you... Gay?"

"What?" 

"I mean.. Do you like boys instead of girls." 

"Yes. Problem?" Sherlock's defences were up as he waited for another homophobic insult, a shove off the bed and a yell of 'NOT GAY!'. He waited for it. But after a few moments Sherlock turned to look at John and he was smiling, shaking his head as an answer, nudging Sherlock teasingly to reassure him that, really, it didn't make a difference. 

~

They went on a walk on Christmas Eve, snow falling and dusting Sherlock's hair, his ears turning pink, because he refused to wear a hat. 

"If only we had skates, we could've gone skating." John sighed, glancing over at Sherlock who was sitting next to him on the icy bank, the lake in front of them frozen completely. 

"I don't think the ice is thick enough for skating, John."

"Oi! Let's just pretend everything's perfect for a moment." 

"Everything is perfect." John blushed at that, heat blossoming in his chest at those simple, yet sincere words, wanting to reply, though his tongue refused to behave, so John nodded instead. Because it was perfect. It was cold, but his breath heated up the scarf covering half his face, and Sherlock was leaning against his right side, keeping him warm with his body heat. It was something about the small moments where they sat in a comfortable silence that made everything seem so perfect. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock, reaching up and slowly brushing a thumb over the tip of his nose and then pulling back, smiling shyly, looking away with cheeks that were flushed from things other than the cold. 

"What was that?" John asked after a short moment, trying to hold back his smile. 

"You had a snowflake.. On your nose." Sherlock said and that only made John laugh. 

~

"I want to kiss you... Until my lips are swollen." John groaned and Sherlock smiled beneath him, biting on his lush, bottom lip, curls spread out on the pillow cushioning his head, like an elegant halo, John thought to himself. God, he was gorgeous. Like a Greek god. One of those statues you found in an art museums, the white marble men and women posing with nothing but a sheet covering them, or nothing at all. John just wanted to kiss every inch of that marble skin. 

"I'm not arguing." Sherlock replied with a smirk, already starting to unbutton his shirt, taking his time just to make John groan, revealing inch after inch of skin, letting John kiss the newly-shown chest, letting John suck purple marks onto his neck and jawline, knowing too well that his winter scarf would be able to cover all marks. He'd have a trail of lovebites in the morning; John was unable to stop himself from nipping and sucking on Sherlock's stomach now that it was revealed, bare for him to see, and, god, Sherlock's skin was soft to his touch. And when John did something Sherlock particularly liked, he'd whine and moan, hitting the Hufflepuff teasingly when John breathlessly laughed at his reactions. 

After John had succeed to mark as much of Sherlock's body as he could, he moved back up to those plush, glistening lips, watching Sherlock's tongue run over them again before repeating the action and diving in for a kiss, hands trailing lower, lower, until they found Sherlock's trousers, which he started to unbutton and unzip, surprised to find Sherlock was doing the exact same to him. 

 

When John woke up, he was flushed and hard. 

~

"Merry Christmas, I suppose." Sherlock smiled, glancing out over the ledge, admiring the view of the Scottish mountains, the snow dusting the hills like icing sugar. It was beautiful. 

They'd come to the astronomy tower after dinner, talking in hushed tones, laughing at stupid jokes and pretending that they weren't starting classes again in a few days. 

"I don't want to go back to classes." John said and Sherlock nodded in return. Going back to school meant other people. Other people that hated him and loved John. Going back to school meant pretty girls swaying their hips in front of John, winking and pouting, luring him in like a predator would it's prey. When there were pretty girls about, Sherlock wasn't important. Sex was important. 

"Looking forward to seeing Mary?" He asked softly, avoiding John's gaze, pretending to be cool, collected, calm. The normal, cold, Sherlock Holmes. 

"Yeah... She's cute, don't you think?" No, she isn't. I don't know what you see in her.

"Cute, yeah..."

"Oh, sorry, mate-" John winced. Mate. John only called his stupid Quidditch friends 'mate', "You like boys, right?"

"Eloquently put." Sherlock said with a sigh, leaning over the edge, watching as the sun started to set. There was a small silence between them before John spoke again, clearing his throat and staring down. 

"Did you like your present?"

"The magnifying glass?"

"Yeah..." 

"It's brilliant. Thank you, John." He smiled before asking, "Did you like mine?"

"The jumper was great, Sher. Thanks."

Mistletoe was forming above them, hanging over their heads and making itself known. They both noticed it and were both itching to lunge forward and lock lips with each other.

But they didn't. 

Instead, they spent the rest of the day convinced the other didn't feel the same, that the other was interested in someone else. And both were too scared to change that.

**Author's Note:**

> I started reading Fangirl and it just put me in the mood to write fluff. I know it has a bit of an angsty ending but I just couldn't get them to kiss so soon after realising how they felt, it was just too un-canon. I'll leave that for another time ;) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
